


Greatly Exaggerated

by atomicdetectivehideout



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Beginnings of Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean's POV, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Gossip, Homophobic Character, Love Confessions, M/M, Roommates, Rumors, life in a dorm, really terrible gossip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 16:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7691314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicdetectivehideout/pseuds/atomicdetectivehideout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean moves into his new dorm with a warning from Sam: watch out for your new roommate. Sam's heard a bit of gossip about this Castiel Novak person. Well, a lot of gossip and none of it is pleasant. But Castiel is mild mannered and, well, really nice. Dean must get to the bottom of who would want to hurt this nice, friendly, not at all handsome guy and put a stop to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greatly Exaggerated

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [DeanCas Summer Mini Bang](http://deancassummerminibang.tumblr.com/) with art by the lovely [Emmatheslayer](http://emmatheslayer.livejournal.com/profile).

 

 

 

Dean opens the door to his new dorm room. He's already relieved because this room is missing the danky smell of pot and old socks. Sam pushes past him, heavy box in hand. “Get out of my way, Dean. You can't make me carry the heavy boxes, then block the door.”

 

“You're lucky that's not actually the heavy box, bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Hello?” comes a third voice.

 

Sam and Dean look around.

 

There's a boy around Dean's age sitting on the bed on the left, the bed on the right is bare. He's holding a book loosely in his hand, questioning look on his face. His hair is slightly too long, covering his ears and falling into his eyes but doing nothing to hide his bright blue eyes. Dean does everything he can to not have at how handsome this boy is and he's pleased to say that he succeeded.

 

“Can I help you?” the boy asks.

 

“I’m your new roommate.”

 

“Ah, you must be Dean,” the boy says. “I'm Castiel. Castiel Novak.” He politely sticks his hand out. Dean reaches for it and they exchange smiles.

 

“Nice to meet you, Castiel. This is my baby brother, Sammy. He gets to carry the heavy boxes.” Dean glances at Sam. He's got a strange look on his face, but still smiles and shakes Castiel’s hand.

 

“I knew you gave me the heavy boxes!” Sam exclaims indignantly, glaring at Dean.

 

“Well, yeah,” Dean scoffs. “You're gonna grow taller than me, you're gonna be put to work.” Sam only scoffs in return and dumps the box on the empty bed.

 

Castiel stands up, carefully placing a bookmark in his book and leaving it on his bed.

 

“Well, I will get out of your way. I'm sure you two would like the time to settle Dean in. I have to get to the library anyway.” Castiel grabs a backpack and is out of there before Dean can even get out that it's no problem for him to stay.

 

“So he seems a little bit strange,” Dean says.

 

“Dean, he looks shady. His earlier roommate ran away.”

 

“Shut up, Sammy. He looks adorable.”

 

“ _Ran away_ , Dean.”

 

“What? He ran away? What was he running from? That kid didn't look like he could scare anyone. Where do you even get this garbage from?”

 

“I actually talk to other people, _Dean_.” He hears the emphasis on his name and knows Sam is calling him a hermit. Little brothers. “Yeah? What people?” he demands instead.

 

“Well, Jess told me--”

 

“Jess? Jess doesn't count as _people_. She's your girlfriend.”

 

“Dude, she's already more people than you talk to.” Dean grumbles under his breath. “As I was saying, Jess told me she's heard a couple things about Castiel. She's not sure if any are real though.”

 

“Like what?” Dean can't help but be intrigued. He's only spent a fraction of a minute with Castiel, but what could he possibly have done to make someone run away?

 

“Well, one rumour was that he sells drugs--”

 

“Drugs? That kid looks like every anti-drug commercial I’ve ever seen.”

 

Sam glares at Dean again. “Dean. Do you want these rumours or not? Stop interrupting me.”

 

“Right.” Dean gestures with an open hand to Sam. “The floor is yours, Sammy.”

 

“Stop calling me Sammy. Someone else said they heard he was hosting orgies. He did seem a bit uptight for that though.”

 

“The quiet ones will always surprise you, Sammy. I mean, _Sam_.” Dean wags his eyebrows at Sam. “Besides, an orgy sounds like fun, dontcha think?”

 

“You are disgusting.” Dean scoffs in mock offense as Sam talks over him. “The other rumour Jess told me is that he’s a pimp.”

 

“A pimp,” Dean says. It’s not even a question. “Sammy, you think that kid is a pimp? I guess he’s hiding the fur coat and chalice under the bed, huh? Come on, Sam. Did we even see the same person when we walked in together?”

 

Sam throws his hands up in defence. “Hey! I’m not saying I believe these rumours. I’m just telling you what Jess told me.”

 

“Well, Castiel looks like he’d pass out from whiskey vapours. I’m not too worried about him being a problem. Besides, if his last roommate left and he got to keep the room, that means Castiel put in the complaint.”

 

“Maybe he was just worried the other guy would rat him out,” Sam suggests.

 

“I’m getting some serious mixed messages from you. Don’t you usually love everyone? Something about not judging people? You’re getting all gossipy on me.”

 

“All I’m saying is that maybe you should just be careful around the guy. At least in the beginning,” Sam cautions. “These rumours didn’t start for no reason.”

 

“Thanks for the concern, but I’ll be fine, Mom. Now help me put my bedding on. I can't wait to use this memory foam topper.”

 

***

 

They manage to get Dean's belongings unpacked without further discussion of what Castiel’s potential pastimes are. They head out for dinner before Sam catches a bus home for the evening. Dean can see on Sam’s face that he wants to warn him one last time, but he's relieved that Sam contains it.

 

Castiel is back when Dean returns, now sitting at the desk, several books propped open in front of him, tapping his pencil.

 

“Hey! You actually did have to go to the library!” Dean exclaims in greeting.

 

Castiel doesn't acknowledge him and continues tapping his pencil. Dean takes a closer look and sees the earbuds hidden in the dark hair that's growing past his ears. He taps Castiel's shoulder instead making him jump. He yanks the earbuds from his ears and clutches at his heart.

 

“When did you get here?” he gasps out.

 

“Whoa, calm down there, buddy. I only just came in.”

 

“Sorry, I didn't hear anything. You surprised me. I was getting used to living alone” Dean can hear Castiel's breath starting to steady already.

 

“That's quite the reaction,” Dean simply states, hoping that Castiel will fill in the blanks.

 

“Ah, yes. I'm just a little on edge at the moment.”

 

“On edge”… that could mean drugs. Or is he anxious for the next orgy? Holy shit. Could one of Sam's rumours be true? Dean decides to poke a little deeper.

 

“Oh yeah? What's got you _on edge_? Big test? Group project? … something a bit more exciting?”

 

Castiel gives him a strange look. Dean never said he was a good interrogator. Just curious.

 

“Uh, just an issue with someone else. It was quite recent. I'm sure I'll settle down soon.” An issue? Like with another pimp? Dean's mind is racing with possibility. Damn Sammy for starting him down this path. How's he going to live with this guy when he had so many questions? He decides to just ask.

 

But he’s gotta play it cool.

 

“So, tell me, man.” Good start, Dean. “Why didn’t you have a roommate?” Castiel raises a suspicious eyebrow and Dean can feel his confidence starting to plummet already, but he ploughs ahead anyway. He can fake it. “There are some rumours that I’ve heard, and I gotta say, I don’t believe a one.”

 

“Rumours?” Castiel looks skeptical. “Well, one of them is probably true. Unless they all are. What have you heard?”

 

Dean falters at the question. He’s supposed to be asking the questions here. “Uhhh,” he says instead. “What have you heard?”

 

Castiel turns back to his books. “So far? Nothing that’s actually true.”

 

“Not even one?”

 

“Why are you so interested in this?”

 

“I’d just like to know the truth. If I'm living here I think I should know what type of discretion is needed.”

 

Castiel puts his book back down and turns to focus completely on Dean. “Okay. What are you talking about? What are you hearing about me?”

 

Well, that was a disaster. Dean can feel sweat starting to form on his brow now that he’s on the spot. Why did Sam have to mention this garbage to him? Why did he have to be so curious about it? Why did he have to just outright ask? He just had to open that mouth of his again before thinking. “Well, none of them are good.”

 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Are rumours ever about good things? And with the way you're acting, I know they're not.”

 

“Definitely not.” Dean pauses for a moment before continuing. “One rumour is that you sell drugs.”

 

Castiel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. “Please tell me you started with the worst one,” he gasps. Dean cringes. “The others are worse?” Castiel visibly pales before Dean's eyes.

 

“Okay, none of them are great,” he starts, patting Castiel awkwardly on the shoulder. “But it's hard to compare which one is the worst. They're all on different scales, really,” Dean tries to calm Castiel down.

 

Castiel just glares at him. “Are they, Dean? Are they really? What else have you heard about me?”

 

Dean decides to get the other two out at once. “I also heard that you host orgies. And that you're a pimp.” Castiel freezes at the words, eyes sharp in recognition.

 

“Orgies and a pimp. Why not? Anything else I should know about?” he asks eerily calmly for someone that was a breath away from a panic attack a moment ago. Dean is startled at the change in demeanor and simply shakes his head no.

 

“Thank you for letting me know what's been said about me,” Castiel smiles grimly at him. “I can assure you that none of that is true. I know we've only just met, but that would all be highly out of character for me.” He pauses with a concerned expression on his face before continuing. “Do you still want to be my roommate?”

 

“Hey man,” Dean claps Castiel on his shoulder. “I was on the dorm waitlist since the semester started. I’ve spent the last month on a couch, so I’m just happy to have a bed of my own for a change. A bit of gossip isn’t enough to scare me off.”

 

Castiel gives Dean a small smile and he can’t help but think that he looks like a kicked puppy. “Well, if you’re sure…”

 

“Well, are you sure you're not a pimp?” Dean can’t help but tease. Castiel gives him a Look. Hey, look, he's learning so much about Castiel already.

 

“I'm certain that I am not a pimp, Dean.”

 

“Yeah, but are you sure sure? In this one movie, the guy was a pimp and he didn't even know it,” Dean excitedly starts to tell him. “He thought he was just helping a friend with protection for her dating service. Are you protecting a friend, Cas?”

 

Castiel looks at him like he's ridiculous, and maybe he is a bit, but the mood lightens. “Are you confusing real life with a movie? Should I be concerned about this? You were concerned about my illegal activities, so I feel I should be concerned for your mental well being, in turn.”

 

“Nah, man, this is such a great movie-- _The Other Guys_. So funny. It's a buddy cop movie, can't believe you haven't seen it. We should watch it together.” Dean knows he's rambling, he can feel the words tumbling out of his mouth, but he can't seem to stop them. “Listen, I'm sorry making things awkward with this rumour thing. My brother got in my head about it. How about we start over?”

 

Dean sticks his hand out. “Hi, I'm Dean Winchester.” Cas takes his hand, not breaking eye contact while giving a firm shake. “I'm Castiel--Cas Novak. It's nice to meet you.”

 

“Wanna watch _The Other Guys_ with me? I have it on my laptop.”

 

“Sure, Dean. That sounds like fun.”

 

***

 

They've been living together for nearly four weeks now. Cas is great to live with. He's quiet, tidy, and keeps to himself most of the time. Dean can usually get him talking and they fall into easy conversation. Dean still doesn't know why Castiel’s last roommate left and Cas avoids that topic like the plague.

 

Dean's taken to listening for the rumours--for science, of course. Some are more tame than others. He's pretty sure he heard something about harvesting organs the other day. He doesn't tell Cas about that one, instead quietly choosing to suggest to the person speaking the gossip, they might find themselves in a bathtub full of ice if they don't stop talking. He doesn't hear that particular rumour again, but he still finds it troubling. He does share the funnier ones he hears though, including the one that speculated that Cas had a plethora of puppies stashed in the room. And if Dean noticed the way Cas’ eyes softened at the thought of puppies, he didn’t mention it.

 

Castiel is turning out to be a really nice guy and Dean can't figure out the type of person that would spread these malicious lies about him. Or the reason why. Dean recalls the look of recognition on Cas’ face when he heard all of the rumours. Cas must know something about the origin of the stories. He figures that Cas will tell him when he's ready to, if ever, but the more time goes by and the closer he finds himself to Cas, the more upset he becomes over the whole situation. The terrible rumours aren't dying down, they're still spreading. Someone is keeping them alive and Dean wants to find out who that person is.

 

Instead of addressing his concern, Dean chooses to ignore it instead opting to introduce his new friend to movies and television shows--Dean can’t believe how little Cas has actually seen and decides it’s his goal in life to introduce all his favourites with him. They spend their evenings huddled together on Dean’s bed, laptop in front of them, thighs touching.

 

Dean can usually watch videos with friends like this no problem. Hell, there was one weekend he spent with Charlie plastered against him the entire time only taking breaks to go to the bathroom or getting up to pay the food delivery people, watching the entire extended Lord of the Rings series. Dean hadn’t given it a second thought spending so much time in close proximity to another person. But with Cas beside him, something is different and he’s having a hard time placing what it is. Maybe it’s just the need to protect him from the vicious stories that he hears that fans the flames he feels when their thighs are touching, knee to hip with no space in between them. It can’t be anything else. Dean’s protective of his friends and Castiel is now in that category.

 

Dean crams a handful of popcorn in his mouth instead of thinking about what this might mean.

 

Cas’ head bobs sleepily. Dean knows that he’d nearly pulled an all nighter last night, only crawling to bed around 4am, so he isn’t surprised to see Cas is drifting now. After a few minutes, Cas’ head lands on Dean’s shoulder and this time stays there for good. A few minutes later and Dean can hear his soft snores. He turns the volume down on that laptop and lets him sleep.

 

***

 

It’s a couple of weeks later when something happens.

 

Dean thought there was more time. There was this cute girl in his class, Stephanie, with dark gently curled hair, big blue eyes, and a great smile. He’d invited her back to the room for a little bit to “introduce her a great show he’d just found and she would love.” Oh, there is no show, they both knew it. Dean had casually mentioned that his roommate had class until four, leaving them with a solid two hours alone. Her eyebrow arched at the suggestion and simply told him to lead the way.

 

The show had only been on for all of five minutes before she had a hand on his thigh, inching higher up by the second. It didn't take much more convincing before Dean had her on her back, kissing furiously, his hands roaming under her shirt and hers dragging down his back. Her soft moans prompted him lower and he gripped her hips tight before starting under her skirt. He was just about to get to the really fun part when he heard the door being unlocked.

 

“Dean? My professor threw up so class ended early! Can we keep watching--Oh.”

 

Dean sits upright like he wasn't just making out with someone. “Heeey, Cas,” he says casually. “How's it going man?”

 

“I thought you said he'd be gone until four,” Stephanie says sourly, adjusting her clothing.

 

“I said he had class until four. I didn't know it would end early.” Dean gives her a funny look. “How could I have known that?”

 

“Any chance you could come back later?” Stephanie asks Castiel in a sickly sweet voice. Cas opens his mouth to respond, but Dean answers first.

 

“You know what, the moment's kinda gone. Might be time for you to go.”

 

Stephanie huffs and hops off the bed. “Fine. But this was your only chance and you just ruined it.” Dean just gives her a look while she collects her belongings. “And just so you can spend time with this drug addict? Yeah, okay.” She shoots Cas a glare that would have made most people wither under it, but Cas just blinks blandly at her. Even more upset now, Stephanie slams the door shut on her way out so hard a frame falls off the wall.

 

Cas is still standing by the door. Now that Stephanie is gone, he looks a bit more rattled by what happened. “A drug addict now? Seems almost repetitive since we already heard the drug dealer gossip,” Cas says.

 

“It's like they haven't heard that you're not supported to get high on your own supply,” Dean adds.

 

Cas finally moved from the door, drops his bag, and flops on his bed.

 

“I'm sorry about Stephanie,” Dean says. “You and I never really set any ground rules for bringing girls back here and it seemed like a good chance to take. And you've never brought a girl back either.”

 

Cas gives him a strange look that Dean can't quite decipher. “It's okay, Dean. You're right though. We never talked about this. Will you be bringing… people back regularly?”

 

“I dunno yet. I haven't thought about it for a while. You and me have been spending so much time together, haven't had much chance.” Cas starts to talk when Dean realizes how that might be interpreted negatively. “But not that that's a bad thing!” he corrects. “We have fun together.”

 

Cas props himself up on his elbows and looks at Dean properly with a smile. “We do have fun together. I value our time together.”

 

“Me too, man. So what about you? Will you start bringing ladies back now? Should we stick to the sock on the door handle? It's a classic for a reason.”

 

“Uhhh…” Cas says.

 

“You want something more subtle? What about a doormat? We could put it out when one of us is getting lucky. Like an unwelcome mat.” Dean looks really pleased with himself for that joke and Cas can't help but give him a pity smile.

 

“I don't think that will be necessary for me, Dean.”

 

Dean is instantly more serious about what they're talking about. “Are you uncomfortable talking about sex? Are you ace or something? Totally cool if you are. Just let me know and I'll never talk about sex to you again.” Dean pauses for a second. “On purpose. I think about sex a lot, so I might forget sometimes.”

 

Cas looks a little flustered at everything Dean has just said. “No, I'm not asexual, but I do appreciate the consideration.” Cas sits up on the bed, contemplation visible on his face. “I won't be bringing any girls back to our room though…”

 

Dean sits looking at him for a moment. Cas can practically see the moment on Dean's face when all the pieces fall into place. “Oh, are you gay?” Dean asks.

 

“Yes. Will that be a problem?” Dean looks Cas over. He looks defiant, but also like a lost child.

 

“Definitely not. You're still good in my books. Wanna keep watching _Game of Thrones_? The last episode was a cliffhanger.”

 

Cas’ face splits into a grin. “Yes, Dean. I've been wondering about what will happen next all day.”

 

***

 

It takes Dean a while, too long really, to wonder if the rumours might have been started by Cas’ past roommate. He finds himself thinking about the defiant look on his face when he told Dean he is gay and the fact that Cas was the one that got to keep the room. That might cause someone to feel bitter enough to start shit.

 

Dean decides to turn to Sam.

 

“This is all your fault anyway, Sammy,” Dean complains into the phone.

 

“It’s Sam. And how d’you figure that?” he questions.

 

“Because you’re the one that told me all these rumours in the first place!”

 

“You’d have heard them eventually anyway! Jess doesn’t even go to your school and she heard them. This is big,” Sam says.

 

Dean’s alone in the dorm room right now and he’s pacing at the moment. “Something doesn’t smell right. The rumours are obviously making their way far, they’re still spreading--I keep hearing new ones. I think it was his last roommate.”

 

“Why's that?”

 

“Well, Cas never talks about him. Ever. I've tried to be subtle about it--”

 

“Dean, you are actually the least subtle person I know.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Shut it, Sam. Cas didn't answer when I even mention his past roommate. It's like talking to a brick wall sometimes. He talks freely about everything, anything else except him.”

 

“Then what's the next step?” Sam asks.

 

“We gotta find out who this guy is.”

 

“Wait, why “we?” You're the one who's curious.”

 

“How many times I gotta say it! You got me involved. You gotta help me figure this shit out.”

 

He'd never be able to tell you exactly what sounds like, but Dean swears he can hear Sam roll his eyes over the phone. “Why are you so invested in this? The stories don't affect you. Unless are they starting to include you too?”

 

“No, it's nothing like that. I dunno, man. Cas is a nice guy. I just want to help him. But he doesn’t have know that I am.”

 

Sam thinks about it for a moment before he responds. “Well, I think we should get Charlie involved. I bet she could hack into your residence's computers and pull the files.” Dean kicks himself for not thinking of that. He's a big brother. He had to harass Sam first.

 

“Good call. I'll message her.”

 

“Dean.” Sam's voice has a hint of warning to it. “What are you going to do when you find out who it is?”

 

Dean thinks about it for a moment. “I dunno just yet. I'll figure it out.”

 

“Don't do anything stupid, Dean. You can't get kicked out of residence too. Then _you_ will be the next topic of gossip.”

 

Dean just grumbles in agreement. A short while later, they hang up and Dean boots up his laptop. He thinks about what he's going to tell Charlie as he waits. He opens the chat service and begins to type. _Charlie, I need your help with something._

 

***

 

Charlie is in the middle of something big at the moment, so unfortunately, Dean has to wait. She wouldn’t tell him what she’s working on, but she said something about making him an accessory if he knew so, he decides to not ask just to play it safe. _Just give me a week,_ she had said. He can wait a week. He thinks. He’s curious, way too curious about this, but Cas seems thoroughly unconcerned with what’s being said about him. Dean can do that too.

 

So Dean tries his best to put it out of his mind. It’s easier than he expected it to be since he is in school, after all. He goes to class and has homework to do and tests to study for. He's actually thinking very hard about an upcoming test and that is probably why he didn't notice the sock on the doorknob.

 

“Hey Cas, how’s it--oh, fuck.” He. He just. His brain stops.

 

Cas’ head whips up so fast, if Dean hasn't been so preoccupied with processing his shock, he would probably be wondering if Cas for whiplash from that.

 

“Dean, didn't you see the sock?” Cas asks. There's a tone in his voice that Dean just can't quite place and he's still just. What. What just happened.

 

“I--I gotta go. Be back later. Hours. It'll be hours. Bye.” Cas starts to say something else, but Dean slams the door, almost running to the common room. He somehow finds a seat without really paying attention and slides into the chair limply. He just needs a minute, a second even, to process this.

 

Cas had a guy in their room. And they weren't just hanging out. Cas had been on top of him, thick thighs straddling the guy's lap, Dean fairly certain he even saw the slow rocking of hips. And his hands. Dean couldn't see his hands, they were so far up the stranger's shirt, not even taking the time to ruck it up properly. Well. At least, one hand was up his shirt. Dean couldn't see where the other one was.

 

Dean felt hot. His cheeks must be so red with embarrassment and he can feel it spreading. The heat is in his chest and making his limbs heavy. It's strange. Even though he knew that Cas was gay, having never seen Cas doing anything even remotely sexual in nature, he'd sort of forgotten that Cas is indeed a sexual being. It's definitely not forgotten now. How could it be when Dean had a front row seat to the Cas Show?

 

This is weird. He's clearly over thinking what just happened. Cas has a Guest over and Dean is giving them time, a few hours he'd said, alone. That's what roommates do. He has no reason to spend anymore time on this. He pulls a textbook from his bag, intending to use the time to study. If only he could get rid of the weight in his stomach that had just started. Must just be anxiety for the test.

 

***

 

It's Friday night. There are three more days until Charlie can hack the dorm’s records for him. He is doing really well when it comes to not thinking about that or catching Cas with that guy, “Balthazar” Cas had called him. When he'd finally returned to the room that night, Cas had apologised profusely and he knew that they had never finalised the sock on the doorknob thing, but Cas hoped Dean would see it and not come in, but it's okay because they just laughed it off and Dean felt sick. He'd told Cas that it was fine and laughed along stiffly in all the right spots.

 

But the truth is it made him uncomfortable for reasons he isn't sure he wants to analyse. So, instead, he shoves it down. He focuses on the test he has to study for. He leaves the classroom on Friday feeling confident. If he doesn't get at least an 85% on that, he'll be very surprised.

 

Cas is waiting for him when he gets back.

 

“I think I need a Game of Thrones break,” he says in greeting.

 

“Okay,” Dean responses. “What should we watch instead?”

 

“Do you want to go out tonight instead? I'd like to do something, get moving.”

 

“Like what?” Dean dumps his stuff on his bed.

 

“Well, I've never gone bowling before. A classmate told me there's an alley nearby that actually has really good nachos too. Wanna go?”

 

Cas had him at nachos.

 

***

 

They walk to the bowling alley. It’s early December, but oddly warm out so they’ve chosen to walk. Dean’s leather coat is open and Cas’ scarf is wrapped loosely around his neck.

 

They walk into the alley, immediately hit with the sounds of bowling balls hitting the ground, pins falling, and upbeat 90s pop classics paired with the smells of stale beer and foods that are bad for you. Dean is thrilled. He's been a good student lately and he's excited to cut loose for a bit. The first order of business, after securing a lane, is ordering two dishes of these amazing nachos. It's not that he considers himself to be a foodie, but he'll be the judge of how amazing these nachos are.

 

Cas had gone to get their shoes and they make it to their lane at the same time, plopping down into some chairs.

 

“I've never gone bowling before. Is it hard?” Cas asks, lacing up his borrowed shoes.

 

“Nah, I'm sure you'll pick it up in no time. How about you go first. It's easy.”

 

Cas looks a little uncertain, but he says okay. They program their names into the computer and get ready to start.

 

Cas goes to the ball return selecting a purple ball with a glitter inlay and Dean eagerly digs into the nachos. It's probably because he's savouring the hot glorious cheese that he misses Cas first bowl. Dean hears the thud of the ball on wood, but it doesn’t sound right. Cas must have not known exactly how hard you have to throw the ball because when Dean looks up from his food, he can see it inching slowly towards the pins.

 

“Dean, I don't think I threw it hard enough,” Cas says needlessly.

 

“Yeah, buddy, I can see that.” The ball continues its snail pace, only making it halfway down the lane veering left before it sinks into the gutter and stops moving altogether. Dean finishes his nacho before he gets up. It’s not like the ball is going anywhere.

 

“What do we do? I guess I have to throw it harder…” Cas trails off and Dean can't help but laugh at him. Cas only glares at him.

 

“It's funny!” Dean defends. “I didn't realise you didn't even really know the basics.”

 

“Well, I thought I did!” Cas looks frustrated and Dean sees him glancing at the ball sitting sadly in the gutter.

 

“No problem, I can teach you. Do you want to put the bumpers up too?”

 

“I don't know what that means,” Cas says sadly. “And how do we get the ball out? Should we call an attendant maybe?”

 

Dean throws on his patented smirk. “Oh, I can fix that.” He saunters over to the lane, grin still in place as he gives a quick sweeping look around for employees. There's no one, so he walks carefully and quickly along the lane divider to the ball. He gives another glance around before he picks the ball up and walks it to the pins throwing it at them and knocking over nine of them. He walks back just as cockily as before and sits back down for more chips.

 

Cas gives him a look and Dean shrugs. “Now we've got you off to a good start,” is all he says. “You have one more turn, then you can have some victory nachos.”

 

Cas sighs. “I'm not sure I like this game.”

 

“You gotta give it more of a chance than that, man. Look, I'll show you how.” He stands back up and heads to Cas. “Did you like the weight of that ball? Was it too heavy? Too light?” Cas looks confused and shrugs. “Okay, keep using that one for now and we can get you a new one if it’s not working for you.”

 

“Sure,” Cas says uncertainly.

 

“Okay, so you gotta take a few steps back,” Dean pulls Cas back by his shoulders a few paces behind the line, “that way you can have some more force behind the ball.” Cas just nods.

“Then, you raise the ball behind you and really swing it down the lane while you step forward. Don't pass the line though. We can work on aiming after you get the right amount of speed. Got it?”

 

Cas nods again and seems a little less unsure. He gets into position, the purple glittery ball raised behind him. He takes three steps forward and swings the ball. It speeds into the lane--and heads nearly immediately into the gutter.

 

“Well, you got the speed part down now,” Dean says encouragingly. “We can work on your aim for the rest of the game.”

 

Cas now and sits down to finally eat some nachos. “I still don't know if I like this game. Why do I have to wear special shoes?”

 

“You need to give it more time and I dunno. Eat your nachos, Cas.” Cas shrugs and digs in and Dean stands to take his turn. He finds a glossy black ball that reminds him of the Impala and winds up his arm and let's the ball fly. He whoops and pumps his fist when he knocks over eight pins leaving two standing together on the left. “Did you see that? I can't remember the last time I bowled. Some things you just don't forget.”

 

Cas rolls his eyes at him and continues eating. “Cas, man, you should be watching my awesome form. Watch me get these two!” He waits for the black ball to return to take his turn quickly swooping in to grab it. It's his for today. He readies his arm and lets swing, aiming for the remaining pins. He really doesn't remember the last time he was bowling, but the motion is familiar all the same. Ball stretched back, walk into the throw, keep the ball low, and aim. He lets the ball fly and it speeds down the lane veering left. He shouldn't be this excited at the very beginning of the game, but he can't help it. He's got a fun game, great food, and Cas. What could make for a better night? The ball approaches the pins and knocks over the last two. Dean whoops again as they click and clack down the resetter. Cas smiles at the antics and Dean rushes over to join him. “You did see that, right? Off to a great start. Now we just gotta work on you.”

 

Cas looks vaguely concerned at that. “Oh no, you don't have to worry about me. I'm content scoring zero. I really just wanted nachos. Don't waste your time on me.”

 

“Nonsense!” Dean exclaims jovially. He's not usually the sort to use words like nonsense, but hell. He's in a good mood, he's having fun, he feels more relaxed than he has in a while. “It’d never be wasting my time.”

 

Cas still gives him a funny look, but doesn't stop Dean when he also stands for Cas’ turn. Cas stands a few steps behind the line again, ball in hand and gets ready to launch. Dean observes Cas’ form.

 

“Is this okay?” Cas nervously asks.

 

“I think that's fine. Don't be so nervous. Now, when you go to aim, don't watch the ball. Look at the pins. You need to look at where you want to ball to go.” Cas nods. “You can do this, Cas.”

 

Cas lifts his arm and let's the ball roll. This time, it makes it about halfway down the lane before falling into the gutter. He looks at Dean for feedback.

 

Dean throws him a thumbs up. “You're already getting better, man!”

 

Cas just looks annoyed at Dean's excitement. “Better would be getting it all the way to the end of the lane. You don't have to pat me on the back for the slightest improvement.”

 

“I'm in a good mood and I'll congratulate you on whatever I feel like,” Dean says audaciously. “How about I help you a bit more closely this turn?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Cas agrees easily.

 

Dean gets in behind Cas and begins to move Cas’ arm for him in a swinging motion. “Let's get you loosened up first. You're all tense.” Cas raises an eyebrow at that. “Not like that. No wonder you keep getting gutter balls. It's where your mind is.”

 

“Sure, Dean. What do you recommend I do?”

 

“Look at the centre pin. You want to try and knock that one over. At the very least, you'll knock the most over that way.”

 

Cas nods seriously at Dean and resumes his new bowling stance. Dean steps back to give Cas his space. His limbs still don't seem loose enough, but Dean can already see progress as the ball speeds down the lane, still veering to the left but it avoids the gutter this time and knocks over a single pin on the back corner. Cas spins around, surprise on his face and Dean whoops and claps him on the back.

 

“I got one!” Cas exclaims. “I actually hit one!”

 

“And you'll only get better from here,” Dean tells him.

 

“You might be a better teacher than I thought.” Dean gives Cas a Look before letting him continue. “I think you need to keep teaching me.”

 

Dean shrugs. That's how he figured the night would go anyway. He takes his turn--getting a spare, thank you very much--while Cas watches and snacks and he decides this just isn't right. How have they been bowling without beer? So while Cas is up, Dean heads to the bar armed with little more than his give ‘em hell attitude (and definitely not a valid piece of ID) and he leaves with two pitchers.

 

“Cas, this evening is about to take a turn,” he announces proudly. “I sure hope you’re ready.”

 

Castiel raises an eyebrow at him and the beer. “Oh?” he simply asks.

 

“Oh, yes,” Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows while he pours the first glasses. “One for me and one for you. Start drinking.”

 

Cas scrunches his nose. “I'm not a big fan of beer.”

 

“You're going to be tonight.” Dean raises his glass in salute to Cas and raises it to his lips, swigging down half in one shot. Cas salutes him back and much more demurely drinks his.

 

***

 

They're starting their fourth pitchers. It turns out Cas does like beer, as long it's not the cheap water that Dean started them with. Their scores are really nothing to write home about, Cas having a grand total of fourteen at the end of the first game and Dean with a much better one seventy five. Cas is still rambling about learning how to throw better as he gets progressively more drunk. A chip lining in their stomachs isn't anywhere near enough to stave off drunkenness. And so what if it’s making Dean a little more handsy than he usually is? Cas wants to learn how to bowl better and he’s not getting any better through words alone. And maybe he's doing a bit better this game now that Dean's getting behind him and guiding his arm. He's sure not getting any worse.

 

Looking back, Dean can't recall exactly how he thought it was a good idea to coach Cas in such a physical way; he's not typically a touchy feely kind of person. Alcohol is such a peculiar thing. Dean's arms feel heavier and looser than they usually are and Cas is just so warm. Is it hot in here? Dean feels hot. And if Cas is warm and Dean wants to keep touching him, well, he's gotta get less warm. He peels off his sweater and goes in for another swig of beer while he's at it. Cas is looking at him kind of strangely when he turns back to their lane.

 

“What?” he asks defensively. “It's hot. Aren't you hot?” Cas just shrugs at him and gestures for Dean to come back over which he does without hesitation. He's practically draped over Cas his next few turns, they're not even keeping track of whose go it actually is anymore, just throwing the ball down the lane once the pins are all aligned again. If Cas was going to get any better, that was going to be if they'd stopped drinking about four beers ago. Dean's really not accomplishing anything by wrapping himself around Cas, but he just can't bring himself to stop now. And it might be because of that that things go down the way they do.

 

Cas has just taken a turn, he’s spun to face Dean, arms raised in celebration because he’s just knocked over three entire pins in a single hit, Dean’s own arms are trapped on Cas’ shoulders where he’s let them fall. The pose is probably more innocent than it might look to an outsider (Dean just can’t tell anymore, Cas is just warm and soft, and everything feels good right now), but he could see how it could be “intimate.” Cas lowers his arms and focuses singularly on Dean and the bottom of his stomach falls out and he can't hear the noise around them anymore and all he can see is blue. He can't actually tell how long they're standing there for, but it feels like forever and it might not even be the beer.

 

The moment is broken by a loud snicker from behind them.

 

“Oh, Castiel. You just do it to yourself.”

 

The two jump apart and look at who the voice came from. Standing just behind their table is a tall black man with a large smirk across his face. Dean has no idea who this guy is, but he can feel Cas tense up beside him.

 

“Uriel,” Cas grits out. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Watching the show apparently,” this Uriel guy says smugly.

 

Dean already doesn’t like him. His buzz evaporates instantly and moves in between the two men and tries his best to be intimidating, drawing himself up to his full height and squaring his shoulders. “Listen, Chuckles. Show’s over. Time to move on.”

 

“Dean,” Cas says, placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Just leave it. Let’s just go.” There’s something in his voice that makes Dean feel uneasy. He can’t pinpoint it right now, but he knows that Uriel is the cause of this and he’s gotta do something about this.

 

“I don’t know who you are, and it doesn’t matter. I don’t like you.” And that’s all the warning Uriel receives before he gets a fist to the face.

 

“What the…?” Uriel mumbles from the floor. It’s been a long time since Dean’s decked someone, let alone hard enough to knock them to the ground.

 

“Oh, god, Dean…” He looks up and Cas’ eyes are wide, hand over his mouth. “You’re bleeding.”

 

“I--what?” Dean looks at his fist. It’s not _really_ bleeding, it's just a scrape really, and it was only one punch.

 

“We should go,” Cas tells him as Uriel continues to writhe on the floor.

 

“But Cas--”

 

“Now Dean!”

 

They run out of the bowling alley as quickly as possible, coats and shoes in hand. They're a block away before they slow down.

 

“What on earth was that, Dean?” Cas gasps out while slipping his shoes on.

 

“He was being a bag of dicks and I had to do something,” Dean explains as he pulls his sweater over his head.

 

“So you had to punch him?” Cas asks, exasperation evident in his voice.

 

“It's obvious there is some back story between you two and I knew you weren't going to punch him.”

 

“I do tend to avoid brawls,” Cas says solemnly. “Well, let's go home. I've got some bandages and a bottle of whiskey we can finish.”

 

“Awesome,” Dean says and they continue the cold trek home.

 

It's only been a few hours since they were last outside, but with the sun having set, the temperature has dropped considerably. They've both bundled up as much as they can and they're relieved they are so close to home. It gives Dean a bit of time to think about what has just happened and he realizes that Castiel didn't acknowledge or deny that he has a history with Uriel. Could he… could he be the ex-roommate?

 

Dean feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulls it out. It's a text from Charlie. He’s long since believed that Charlie is a magical being, but this really cements it.

 

_Dude, my eyes r xing from looking at code so i took a break and did ur thing. Cas’ last roomie was Uriel Ward. Cas put in a grievance that said irreconcilable differences. Also can we watch hp soon? I need me a hermione fix_

 

He knew he didn’t like that guy. He shoots off a quick reply expressing his undying gratitude and how much he owes her for this. It’s only a few silent minutes later, their teeth chattering too much for conversation, that they’re back in their dorm.

 

Cas sighs when they get in and he hangs his coat up. “I'll get the bandages,” is all he says before leaving the room again.

 

Dean really wants to broach the subject, but he's still not sure how. He hangs up his own cost and is turning on their space heater when Cas returns, bandages and antibiotic in hand.

 

“Here, let me take a look,” Cas says gently. He takes Dean's hand and leads him to his own bed and they both take a seat. Cas fiddles with the heater, facing it to the both of them before he settles down to care for Dean. It really is nothing more than a slight scrape, but Dean can feel the ache in his joints from the force he used and Cas’ hands are just so warm and soft as he dabs the rubbing alcohol on it.

 

“So…” Dean starts slowly. “Who was that?”

 

“That was Uriel,” is all Cas says, avoiding Dean's eyes.

 

“And why's he such a dick?”

 

“Dean,” Cas chastised. Dean gives Cas a look and he knows that Cas can tell because he's watching the red stain his cheeks.

 

“Listen Cas.” And this is it. He's just gotta say it. “I know there's something you're not telling me. I don't like talking feelings, so you don't have to do that. But I know he's done something to you. And I'd punch him again even if you never tell me what he did.”

 

Cas is silent. His carefully unwraps the bandage and applies it to Dean's hand, making sure it's entirely covered. He throws out the wrapper and puts the bottle on the nearest desk. There's nothing more to procrastinate with and they both know it. Cas sighs again, hands folded in his lap, eyes downcast.

 

“Uriel was my roommate before you. We'd only just met this year, different programs,” Cas explains. He gets up for a moment to retrieve the bottle of whiskey he'd mentioned earlier. He takes a healthy swig and passes it to Dean. Dean takes a smaller sip and hands it back. Cas holds it loosely in his hand and stares at it absently. Dean can tell he's trying to decide how to tell the story and places his hand on Cas’ encouragingly. His eyes focus on Dean's hand, so Dean gives him a reassuring squeeze.

 

Cas continues.

 

“We got along great at the beginning. We even had an elective class together, art history, so we could complain about it to each other. I had just come out to my parents and they took it very positively, far better than I could have hoped for. They were my biggest worry, of course. I didn't think anyone else would be such a concern. And I certainly didn't want to live this secret in my own home.”

 

Dean nods in semi understanding. He knows that living with secrets is always a struggle, having to remember exactly what you've told every single person, god forbid they ever met and talk to each other.

 

“Uriel was talking about how attractive the female teachers in the art department are, how he'd sleep with any of them if he got the chance, that sort of thing. I hadn't told him that I'm gay yet, but this seemed like a perfect opportunity. I mentioned that our art history teacher, Greg, is handsome. Uriel didn't take it well. I tried to backtrack by explaining that aesthetic attraction isn't the same as sexual attraction, but he wouldn't even try to understand, as he was too busy telling me how sick I am for being gay.” Cas shakes his head at the memory. “He refused to share a room with me anymore, storming out that night. I filed my grievance against him right away.”

 

Dean exhales a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. He really didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. Castiel is a good person with a kind heart that doesn't deserve to be talked to like that. He should be told exactly how amazing he is daily at least, and taken care of, and really just cherished… Dean feels a bit strange and chalks it up to the whiskey. But then he remembers he's only taken a single sip which is so very weird because his stomach is flip flopping and he feels heat in his cheeks. But if it's not the booze then…

 

“Uriel came back a week later with a friend to help take the rest of his things,” Cas continues, derailing Dean's train of thought. “He said he couldn't be alone with me because he couldn't trust me with his back turned. It was then he implied he'd start rumours about me so it really wasn’t a surprise to hear them.” Castiel pauses and a funny quirk appears on his lips. “Though I was impressed at how creative some of them were.”

 

“Is this one of those times where if you don't laugh, you'll cry?” Dean half jokingly asks.

 

“I'm past crying over this, Dean,” Cas says firmly. “I want to forget about Uriel entirely. Granted he's not making it easy, but I'm trying.”

 

“Cas, man, you can't just do that. He's gotta be stopped. This is getting out of hand. Sam's girlfriend at another school knew about you. And what if someone takes it too seriously and the chip get involved? That could go on a permanent record. And what if--”

 

Cas cuts him off mid ramble. “Stop that. I've heard you mother hen Sam over the phone and you're trying to do that to me now too. This _will_ blow over. Nothing Uriel has said can be proved because it's all so petty.” Cas sighs again. “I don't need you to take care of me. It will end when it ends.”

 

Dean mulls it over for a moment. Cas is probably right. And if this is what he wants, then he probably shouldn't interfere. It's just. So. Hard not to.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Dean can’t help but ask instead of arguing.

 

Cas thinks it over before responding. “I just didn’t want you to think I was weak for letting him speak to me like that, or for letting him spread lies about me.” A smile crosses his face when he adds drily, “Plus you punched him after only meeting him. I'd hate to see what you would have done if you knew all of this then.”

 

“Well, I had to,” Dean defends. “I didn't like his attitude and I couldn't let him talk like that to someone I like.”  

 

Cas suddenly looks very confused and Dean can't figure out why. “Someone you like?” he questions.

 

And it clicks.

 

He said that, oh god, he said _that_. He's only just realized it and he's already said it. Guess that won't be a secret anymore. He doesn't even think he can blame it on booze anymore seeing as he doesn't feel even remotely drunk anymore. He could probably play it off as liking as a friend, but the seconds are ticking by leaving the statement dangling between them longer and longer and you know what?

 

“Yes,” he says simply. “I might have only just realized how I feel about you. And I mean _just_.” And maybe there is still a bit of alcohol in his system because he continues. “This might not be what you want to hear but you make me happy and my stomach flips when I'm around you, even though you talk when we watch movies, and I gotta listen to my gut. It's always right,” he finishes boldly with a wink, hiding his nerves at his impromptu confession.

 

Cas laughs before asking, “Why would that be something I wouldn't want to hear?”

 

“I dunno, knowing your roommate likes you?” Dean shrugs. “Might be weird.”

 

“Only if the feelings aren't returned, I'd guess.” Cas says nonchalantly.

 

Dean’s heart rate picks up speed. God, he feels like a lovesick teenage girl. “Wait, what are _you_ saying?”

 

Cas rolls his eyes fondly at the question. “I mean, I like you too. Though, I figured it out before today,” he chuckles.

 

“You do?” And as much as Dean tries not to sound small by asking it, and he'd deny it forever if anyone asked, it's the smallest he's ever felt.

 

“Yeah, I do.” Cas’ hand finds Dean's and he tangles their fingers together. And Dean's stomach flutters. He can't even remember the last time he's felt giddy like this. Definitely gotta stop watching chick flicks in secret. But that's for later. Right now…

 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

 

Cas’ smile lights up his entire face as he nods. They lean into each other and their lips touch tentatively. It's chaste, and they're both shy now, but Dean still hears his pulse in his ears and his cheeks are hot. He’s never kissed another man before and he would have guessed the stubble would be strange, but he’s intoxicated by the scrape of it against his own. They pull apart slowly, eyes fluttering open and lock on each other and smile in unison. Dean feels so blissful.

 

But there’s one small thing still…

 

“What about Uriel though?” Dean can’t help but ask.

 

“Please don't let the threat of Uriel upset you any longer,” Cas tried to placate Dean, voice soothing. “When I filed my complaint about him with the school, I told them everything. I just asked them to not record the details. I also told them that he threatened to start rumours about me. They know to take what they hear about me with a grain of salt, at the very least.”

 

And surprisingly, Dean does feel more at ease.

 

“Okay. Okay. I won't.”

 

Cas grins easily, nose scrunching. “Thank you, Dean. Now, I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s okay.”

 

“Awesome.” And Dean’s smile comes so easily.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr wasting my life [here](http://atomicdetectivehideout.tumblr.com/).


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